A Fistful of God Read Online Free PDF Page B

more.” In one motion, Miguel lifted his chair and turned it around so he faced backward and stared at me. I ducked my head and pretended I had to roll the corner of my tiny piece of paper just right.
    “Yeah, he’s just hoping for a date with anyone.”
    “Shut up, Wallis,” Miguel said without looking at him. “Hey, Jackson, who’s your friend?”
    Jackson introduced us.
    I wanted to fall through the floor. I wanted to go home. I’d rather clean up Mom’s soured-booze-scented puke than sit there.
    “I see you at school,” Wallis said. He leaned on his knee and shouldered Miguel out of the way. “You are one quiet kid, you know that?”
    I rolled my eyes. “And you’re tall. You know that ?”
    It wasn’t all that funny, but the people around us laughed.
    “My mama would like you.” This time Miguel’s voice was quiet, private. “She likes smart girls.”
    I ignored him. I would not open my mouth again. I’d just walk into it if I did.
    “Everybody ready? Let’s go.” Lucy grabbed a matchbook and led the way.
    I scribbled a word on my paper, fast, the three letters slurring together so no one could read them, and squashed it into a pill-sized lump. I wanted this prayer, I wanted a chance to believe again, but if anyone said one more thing to me I’d take off. When I looked up, I saw Shannon and Jackson by the door. Jackson watched me, as though he could wait forever, if that’s how long it took me. I hurried past them onto the blacktopped yard, slivered between the building and a chain-link fence. On the other side of the fence drivers slowed as they passed us.
    Maybe the others weren’t taking this prayer thing seriously because they didn’t have to. I knew other kids had alcoholic parents, but they wouldn’t be a part of a church group either, especially not one that the most popular kids in school also belonged to. Church groups didn’t want kids like me. After all, these kids belonged.
    At the far side of the yard two lonely briquettes nestled in the center of a huge barbecue. As Lucy lit them, the chattering stopped. One by one, everybody dropped his or her slip of paper into the flames. I watched as each one made the sign of the cross as the paper curled up, blackened, and became ash.
    I waited until last. I wanted to wait until everyone had gone back inside, but Lucy cupped my elbow and drew me forward. I swallowed, chucked it in, and watched it explode into a spurt of flame. I forgot to cross myself, watching hard to make sure it disappeared forever. Once I couldn’t tell my slip from the ashes I closed my eyes. Someone grabbed my hand. I jerked up, and saw it was Miguel.
    They’d made a circle, and the girl beside me took my other hand. Lucy started the prayer. “Dear Heavenly Father, we are Yours. Help us to remember Your promise, and help us to trust in You.”
    Such a short prayer, packed with all kinds of meaning. For one thing, what kind of promises had He made to me? Why would I trust Him? Why would He expect someone like me to trust Him, anyway? He probably knew better.
    Lucy started another song, not a religious one, but one I’d heard on the oldies station. “Wind Beneath My Wings.”
    I’d always liked that song, always liked pretending that maybe someday somebody would hold me up, help me out. Lately in my dreams it had been Jackson, or, if not Jackson, someone who looked and talked just like him, only not as popular. I looked across at Shannon and gave up on that idea. Besides, he might be nice enough to drag me to the meeting. He was nice to everyone, but that didn’t mean he cared.
    The song ended and everyone trailed back inside. Miguel gave my hand a tug. I shook my head. “Aw, come on, Aidyn,” he said, but I ignored him, and he finally left me to join his friends. I’d wait until I was alone and make sure the lump that held all my fears had really been destroyed.
    “What did you think of your first meeting?”
    I hadn’t heard Lucy come back outside. I stared